


The Tower

by NeutrinoClover



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Magic, Pre-Relationship, Rapunzel Elements, fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29897256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeutrinoClover/pseuds/NeutrinoClover
Summary: Aerith is one of Gaia’s Hands - an order of mages who do the Goddess’s work in the world. But when a mission brings her back to the tower she escaped from as a child, she finds someone who may be as trapped as she was. Sephiroth is a demon, true, but no one deserves to be imprisoned in Hojo’s clutches.(aka Sephiroth is Rapunzel and Aerith rescues him)
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Sephiroth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: FFVII Secret Spring





	The Tower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ardwynna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardwynna/gifts).



> Gift for Ardwynna, who requested something fairytale based! This came out a little more fantasy AU than fairytale, but I feel pretty happy with it.
> 
> Hope you like it!

Aerith picked her way through the woods on chocoback, sweat dripping off her forehead. It was suffocatingly hot, and the scrubby trees this close to the Wastes didn’t provide much shade. Despite the lushness of the forest behind her, the trees here were grey, their branches almost bare despite the fact that it was nearly Midsummer. The ground was dry, with barely any plants clinging to life, save for the bushes she was struggling through - twisted things, with thorns nearly as long as her little finger, which snagged Daffodil’s plumage like claws. Her yellow chocobo was no happier than she was, trotting forward nervously, cautious of the dead woods.

The Planet’s voice was muted here, the comforting hum of it dulled and distant. The silence was eerie without Her voice - it wasn’t totally gone, but Aerith hadn’t been this removed from Her since she’d started training as one of Gaia’s Hands, eight years ago.

Ahead of her the trees were thinning, marking the beginning of the Wastes proper. According to the hunters and woodcutters who ventured near this area, they’d been expanding for years, swallowing up the forest.

It was one of those hunters who was behind her current mission: the man claimed to have seen a billowing, purple stormcloud hovering over the centre of the wastes, red lightning arcing down from it. Under normal circumstances, Aerith would have dismissed such tales but strange storms and red lightning had been reported in other areas near the Wastes as well. Lady Elmyra had seen fit to send Aerith to deal with the matter, as one of the strongest of Gaia’s Hands.

“No storms yet though, Daffy. Not a cloud in the sky, much to my disappointment - at least a little rain would help us cool off.”

Daffodil gave a soft kweh of agreement.

Aerith sighed and nudged her bird onwards, into the Wastes proper. Dust rose up behind them from the dry ground and the wind that sprang up without the trees, and the lack of cover made Aerith feel like a mouse caught out in the open. She ducked close to Daffy and pushed the chocobo to go a little faster.

The Wastes were an empty expanse of dry, dusty earth, sand and pebbles, uninhabited by humans or animals. Even the hunters and rangers stayed away from them.

But they weren’t totally featureless, with little ridges and valleys marking out places where streams might have flowed once upon a time. Aerith guided Daffy along the flank of a ridge, in the vain hope that it might offer shelter from sun or wind.

It was because of the ridge that she didn’t see the tower until they were almost beside it.

Grey metal walls rose up in sharp lines, with no sign of doors or windows, like a dagger reaching up to pierce the sky. She could feel the abjuration spells on it from here, strengthening the walls and protecting them from magical attack. It was so familiar that Aerith felt tears pricking at her eyes.

“Home. I’m home.” Her voice was hoarse with shock.

She shuddered and wheeled Daffy around, sending them running back to the shelter of the ridge. The feeling of being a hunted animal had returned with a vengeance, and she wanted to be out of sight from the awful tower.

Aerith hadn’t seen it in years - not since she and her mother escaped when she was eight. She hadn’t even known where it was. Seeing it again, the silhouette out of her worst nightmares and her most cherished memories, was enough to send her scurrying for whatever safety she could find.

Nightfall found her huddled in the most sheltered spot she could find, a hollow in a bend of the ridge, picking at her meagre trail rations beside a tiny campfire.

Aerith knew she had to go back - the tower was the most likely source of the strange storms.

If only the thought of it didn’t make her feel like she was six years old again, escaping from the tower while her mother distracted Hojo. The memories were dim, but she’d been to the Wastes before - she’d been running away, frightened and alone, like the child she had been. If Gaia’s voice hadn’t guided her, if Lady Elmyra hadn’t found her, she’d have died of exposure.

But she wasn’t that scared little child anymore.

She had the makings to be the strongest of Gaia’s Hands the temples had seen in decades. She could summon lightning bolts and firestorms, rip through walls with telekinetic power, and reattach severed limbs. A great sorcerer though Hojo may have been, Aerith felt a thrill at the knowledge that even he would hesitate to face her now.

A sharp crack broke through her thoughts.

Crimson lightning split the sky, arcing straight to the tower’s peak.

 _Guess that’s my cue._ Aerith checked that her few materia were slotted - Gaia’s Hands could use magic without materia for most purposes, but magic or mp plus were still invaluable. With everything in order, she patted Daffodil goodbye, and picked her way closer to the tower.

Someone was there.

Aerith would recognize that hunched figure and greasy ponytail anywhere.

She pressed her back against the opposite side of the tower, panic coursing through her. He was still alive? She’d known it was possible, but still… she’d hoped.

“Sephiroth, Sephiroth, let down your hair!”

Aerith started at the name. She hadn’t heard it in so long - it brought back vague images of silver hair and green eyes, and her mother’s warnings to stay away from Hojo's demon.

The sorcerer’s voice hadn’t changed at all. Aerith wouldn’t have thought she’d recognize it, but it was the same as ever - like fingernails on a blackboard.

There was a low rustling noise, and then a grunt of exertion from Hojo. Aerith stood trying to breathe quietly. Once the sounds were gone, she crept around the tower, looking up at the single window she knew was there.

High above, Hojo was just climbing over the sill, some sort of grey rope being pulled in after him.

Aerith took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She hadn’t been seen. But she didn’t want to investigate the tower with Hojo inside it, so she had no choice but to stay hidden. She found herself a place sheltered by a boulder where she could see the tower’s window while still being concealed herself, and settled in to wait.

Hours later, nearly at dawn, Aerith saw someone appear in the window. Her eyes widened as the person tossed their braided hair over the windowsill. It fell all the way down to the ground, silver in the predawn light. Hojo appeared beside the figure, climbing down the hair. He was carrying something - some sort of bag.

Aerith shrank back when he reached the ground, but he only stepped away from the tower and disappeared into thin air with a crack.

The figure in the window began to pull the hair back up. Aerith leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of them.

Their eyes met, and Aerith recognized him.

Hojo’s demon was still in the tower.

Sephiroth had changed since she’d last seen him. He looked like an adult now, but Aerith was sure he was the same creature as the young boy who’d lived with them in the tower, who her mother had kept her away from.

But Aerith was Gaia’s Hand now, not a scared child. She stepped out of her hiding place - no point in trying to avoid being seen now.

Sephiroth had finished pulling his hair up, but he was still at the window, gazing down at her.

Aerith swallowed hard and repeated Hojo’s words. “Sephiroth, Sephiroth, let down your hair!”

With a rustling noise, the silver braid fell down beside her.

The hair thrummed with magic. With the Planet’s voice so muted here, the flood of it was shocking to her senses, like a bonfire. Definitely a demon - few things had that kind of power, and none felt like this, like they’d catch fire if she so much as tried to touch them.

She grabbed it anyway, wincing as the magical pressure increased, but nothing more happened. The hair felt hot, the magic making it hard to hold onto as her fingers twitched and tried to let go, but she held on grimly. The braid smoothly rose - Sephiroth must be pulling it up from the top. _Well, if you were going to make a demon serve as a ladder, you might as well make it provide lift too,_ Aerith thought and had to restrain an misplaced giggle.

As she neared the window, she could feel the demon’s true aura. It suffocated her mind, like walking into a burning building, but it didn’t actively harm her any more than the hair had. There was something off about it though, not quite like demons she'd felt before. _What abomination did Hojo summon all those years ago?_

Aerith took a deep breath, and reminded herself of her mission: investigate the strange storms, and report back to the Lady if she couldn’t deal with the cause herself. She knew enough about demons that she could be confident of winning against a weak one, but by the feeling of flames licking at her mind, Sephiroth was anything but. If it came to a true fight, she might be forced to retreat.

He stopped pulling when she had reached the height of the window. The braid of hair looped over a hook above the frame, putting them on the same level.

Aerith had only very faded memories of the demon in a child’s body that her mother had kept her away from all those years ago. Now, he seemed to have grown into the young man before her, dressed in dark clothes, his face more beautiful than anyone she had ever seen, his body like a marble sculpture.

The scorching heat was nearly overwhelming from this close, and she could see the slit pupils of his brilliant green eyes, a sign of his inhumanity.

She spared a moment to wonder about the person the demon was possessing - he must have been taken by Hojo as a child, forced into becoming a vessel for Sephiroth. She hoped his soul had departed painlessly rather than being forced to remain.

The demon took a step back, giving her space to enter the sparsely furnished room. 

Aerith cautiously stepped forward, off the windowsill and onto the floor, which was smooth and open, perfect for drawing circles and symbols. The open space centred on a stone table dripping with dark stains. A few of the marks gleamed wetly and she suppressed a gag. Above it, an inactive spell hung from the roof like the chrysalis of an enormous insect. The Planet's faint voice hissed unease at the sight of it.

She felt a faint stir of recognition. That table was for the sacrifices Hojo used to power his magic. She and her mother had spent more time on it than she wanted to remember.

The smell, though, was new. It was a mixture of blood and ash, and the combination of that stench with the wet stains made her lip curl in involuntary disgust. Her magical senses noted the other spells strung across the room like cobwebs, clinging to the walls and floor and trailing from the demon's shoulders.

Sephiroth shifted, drawing her attention back.

“Do you remember who I am?”

He had never actually hurt her when she was a child - perhaps his temperament wouldn’t have changed. Only one way to find out, and she might as well do it while she was standing next to the exit.

He gazed steadily at her with those beautiful eyes, and nodded slowly. “You were the little girl. You escaped when your mother attacked the sorcerer.”

Aerith’s heart clenched at the mention of her mother. Lady Elmyra had taken her in like one other own, but she wasn’t Ifalna.

She wanted to ask what happened to her, but she knew she couldn’t give the demon that kind of leverage.

“Yes. And you’re the demon who guarded us.”

He inclined his head. “Why have you returned? Vengeance?”

"I am one of Gaia's Hands. I'm here to investigate certain strange happenings." She didn't want to think about the possibility of getting justice for everything. The thought was too much. "Red lightning and strange storms - would you know anything?"

"I cannot help you, Hand of Gaia. Investigate elsewhere." The look on his face as he said it was too blank, somehow.

"Are you sure? Any information would be useful." He didn't respond.

"My name is Aerith," she added. A peace offering. And a risk, but she could defend herself and it was only fair.

Sephiroth looked taken aback by the gesture. It looked good on him (not that more of that seemed possible), better than the hostile blankness of a moment ago.

Before he could answer, there was a call from outside the tower. “Sephiroth, Sephiroth, let down your hair.”

The demon moved faster than Aerith could react, shoving her aside and out of view from the ground. He gestured to a tapestry against the far wall. “Behind there. And stay quiet.”

Since he was already draping his hair over the hook and tossing the braid out the window, she had no choice but to obey. The tapestry went down to the floor, and hid her well. 

She could hear as the sorcerer climbed into the room - and feel as a new magic user's aura approached. Hojo's power felt vile, thick and slimy, gorged on dark magic and pain. It made Sephiroth's sweltering heat and flames feel clean and natural in comparison.

"Miss me, boy?"

"Not really, sir."

"Ha. I have what I needed, now onto the table."

"Again, sir?" There was something thready in Sephiroth's voice that she couldn't identify.

"Yes, again. I almost have enough energy to bring down this Goddess's petty charade, so I won't be delaying anymore. Lie down."

The words sent a chill through Aerith.

Footsteps crossed the room and Sephiroth must have climbed onto the stone table. Hojo moved around for a minute, chalk scratching on the floor as he drew. She held her breath as he passed her, but he was completely absorbed in his muttering - a low chant that she couldn't understand, but made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up anyway.

When he finished drawing, he cast another spell, and this one she understood. It was a binding, to hold someone in place.

And then the sorcerer began his ritual.

Hojo's voice rose, shaping magic, so strong that Aerith could feel it in her bones - like a funnel, or a reversed river delta, formed from his slimy, twisted magic - ready to trap power and pour it into the spell dangling from the roof. 

Sephiroth made a strangled noise and his aura flared, as though it was fighting with Hojo's power. And then it stopped, weakening and flowing upwards into the funnel.

Aerith risked a peek out from behind the curtain. Sephiroth lay on the table, a long cut gaping across his abdomen. Green flames poured out of the wound, flowing up, just as blood flowed down. His perfect face was tight with pain. She could see him biting his lips to avoid screaming.

Above them, the chrysalis-spell shuddered, swelling as the fire entered it. The scent of ozone filled the room and Aerith saw red lighting outside the window.

Hojo made a tugging gesture and Sephiroth made a grating noise as more flames poured out of him. The chrysalis expanded, growing more physical. It was visible to her eyes now, looming over the room. Aerith caught a glimpse of the shape it was morphing into, and stifled a gasp at the only purpose such a spell could have.

"No…" She whispered. "No, you can't!"

Aerith screamed the words for a light spell, and the flash blinded Hojo for long enough for her to get to Sephiroth.

The demon was shaking on the table, still bleeding, though at least the interruption had stopped Hojo from pulling the green fire out of him

Aerith dragged her hands along his limbs, roughly yanking away the binding spell by brute force, too panicked to use proper magic, and too distracted to care how it felt to touch him.

"Get up, now!"

Gaia must have been lending her strength, since there was no way she ought to be able to cast a compulsion on a demon so powerful.

But Sephiroth staggered after her, glancing anxiously back at Hojo, who was recovering from the bolt of radiance.

Aerith didn't care. They needed to get out of here quickly, and bring back reinforcements. Before the chrysalis spell completed. She didn’t know how Hojo had made a casting, but if completed, it would suck the energy from the Lifestream and the damage could be irreparable. Aerith was shaking as she dragged Sephiroth to the window and clambered onto the ledge.

But the demon balked, whatever compulsion had made him allow her to pull him this far apparently worn off.

And in that moment of hesitation, Hojo struck.

Aerith froze as Hojo's spell hit her. Even her senses dimmed, as though the restraint was more than physical.

The sorcerer cackled, and Aerith could blurrily see the chrysalis opening, the spell within trying to take shape, a hungry thing ready to devour the Lifestream itself...

Then Sephiroth cast his own spell. A pulse of force swept out from him and Hojo staggered back. The thing on the ceiling reached for them with a tendril of darkness and magic, but before it could grasp them, Sephiroth grabbed Aerith and jumped.

Hojo's spell snapped as they left the tower, and so did some sort of connection to the spell inside. Aerith hoped it would buy them enough time to get help. Sephiroth landed with a grunt and collapsed, clutching at the wound in his belly. His long braid was tangled around both of them.

Aerith pulled herself to her feet, shaking off the remnants of the paralysis spell as well as Sephiroth's hair. She put her fingers in her mouth and whistled as loud as she could. She was pretty sure she heard a distant _wark!_ in response.

"Run," gasped the demon on the ground. "You need to get out of here, as far as you can. He can't teleport from inside the tower, but that won't hold him long."

"You hid me." She knelt down beside him. "When you first heard him, you hid me, and you got us both out, even though you're injured."

Sephiroth turned his head towards her. His face was pinched with pain. "You remembered me as just a demon, but you still stopped to talk like I was human. It was the least I could do."

His phrasing was strange, but she resolved to ponder that later.

Instead, Aerith pushed his hands aside, and cast a curaga. She didn't know if it would help a demon, but he wouldn't be able to get onto Daffy with his guts almost spilling out.

To her surprise, when her magic sank into his flesh, it didn't feel anything like a demon. The fiery aura was still there, but it was better anchored to his body than any demon should be to their vessel.

It also meant the curaga worked, knitting the skin together into a fragile scab.

Sephiroth gasped, as the injury was healed and Aerith stared at him. “You don’t feel like… a normal demon.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not. Hojo summoned me when I was very young, and bound me into this body. I… merged with the previous inhabitant.”

“Merged? Not possessed?”

“My memories from before are blurred. I don’t think I was much older than my unwitting vessel was when Hojo summoned me.” His voice was a monotone, but it sounded forced.

Aerith shuddered at the thought of a human consciousness being subsumed by a demon. Though - if Sephiroth was as young as the human at the time, it must have been nearly as awful for him. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be dragged out of the Lifestream into a physical body when you were just a child.

“We’ll make sure he never does that to anyone again. Gaia’s Hands can destroy him once they know that he’s there.” He nodded, and a bit of tension left his shoulders. Aerith felt a sudden urge to stroke his hair out of his face and only barely resisted. Thankfully, Daffy arrived before she could have any more bad ideas.

She was exceedingly thankful she'd left the chocobo mostly tacked up as she helped Sephiroth to his feet. He made one last attempt to tell her to leave him, but she ignored it. Demon or not, even without him serving as some sort of focus for Hojo’s calamitous spell, she couldn't leave anyone in the tower with Hojo. And the look of relief in his eyes when she refused was enough to make her heart clench. 

… was she that far gone already?

Demons could be beautiful, but you didn't fall in love with them, not if you wanted to live to grow old and pass on to the Lifestream. And sleeping with them wasn't much better.

But he wasn't a demon, not totally, and that was too much to think about right now.

Sephiroth couldn't ride, but Aerith was in too much of a hurry to care. So long as he held on, they would manage.

And he did. His hands were shaking around her waist, but he held on, his warm, solid weight behind her. The heat of his aura was almost pleasant now, telling Aerith her demon was still alive. The sooner they got back, the sooner he could get proper treatment, so she kept Daffodil at a run all day. The chocobo was built for stamina, and with Aerith casting rejuvenation magic on her every time she flagged, they were at Lady Elmyra's temple before dusk.

She hadn't seen Hojo. She didn't know if it was because he was still trapped or because he was preparing to catch them or even trying to finish what he started without Sephiroth to serve as a battery. She didn't care. If she could warn the rest of Gaia's Hands, it would be enough. There was nothing the full force of them couldn't do, if only she could get back in time.

And she did. She was exhausted, but as dusk fell, Aerith arrived at the temple. Sephiroth was breathing steadily behind her, and despite her exhaustion, and the stress and terror of the last day and night, the warmth of him at her back was enough to make her glad she’d been picked for this mission.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always liked fantasy stuff, so this was fun to write. Let me know what you thought!


End file.
